When the door closed behind him, the office fell quiet again.
Deck walked slowly back into the conference room.
Eleanor was still standing near the table.
“Well,” she said. “What do you think?”
Deck leaned against the wall and took a slow sip of coffee.
Then he looked at her.
“Aye,” he said thoughtfully. “He’s likable enough.”
Eleanor crossed her arms.
“I think there’s more to him than what they’re saying.”
Deck’s eyebrow lifted.
“Do you now?”
He didn’t question her instincts lightly. He’d seen her wrong about people before, but not often—and never without bleeding for it.
She held his gaze.
“Yes.”
Deck studied her for a long moment.
Then he set the coffee cup down.
“Well,” he said quietly, “let’s hope you’re right, lass.”
A beat passed.
Then he added:
“Because if he did kill her…”
His gaze slid briefly toward the door David Mercer had just walked through.
“We’ve just invited the fox into the henhouse.”
24
The Text
Eleanor had finished closing the Mercer file when her phone buzzed on the conference table.
She glanced down.
Reid:
She opened the message.
Heard Mercer came to see you.
She swallowed, unease tightening low in her stomach.
